All That I Need
by panda holmes
Summary: post-reichanbach yada yada you know the drill, fluffy, smutty Johnlock yesness and cuteness. It's my first attempt at this so I hope it's good and I hope you like it. It's a little scatter-brained but it's stream of consciousnesses from Sherlock's pov and I think that this might be how he thinks. rated M for smut, use of alcohol, and language.


"Sherlock, your tea is getting cold," John pulls me once again from my thoughts; it's only fitting seeing as he was at the center of them.

"Hmm? Right yeah, sorry John…I guess I'm just a little distracted…"

"Understandable, you've only been 'dead' for the last year and now you're trying to track down the remaining members of Moriarty's web."

"For once it's not the case that has me distracted though John…"

"Then what?"

Honestly, this man is an idiot, although most people are compared to me… well I should tell him shouldn't I?

"You, John. I was thinking about you."

Uh-oh…that look on his face; why? What does it mean? I think he's confused. Should I clarify? Well maybe not entirely, that'd be embarrassing to tell him I was thinking about…well…him…and…me.

"It has been a long time hasn't it Sherlock? I missed you, did ya know that? A part of me died that day; with you Sherlock…you were all I thought about for a really long time."

My John, he missed me. All this time… Why the HELL did I listen to Mycroft!? I could have spent this past year hidden away with John…My John. Would he have liked that? He probably doesn't feel that why, he isn't MY John, he's just John…I'm certainly not HIS Sherlock, we're just flatmates right? He even told Irene that he wasn't gay. That should tell me something right? But those eyes… I could look at them forever…

"Sherlock…? Are you listening to me?"

"Of course," every word my dearest.

"Well then… Goodnight Sherlock."

When did he say he was going to bed? Oh well, I'd see him in a few hours when he gets up…I can live that long without him right? "Goodnight John."

Thinking back to this morning… Mrs. Hudson nearly fainted, she had been well prepared by my brother of course but some part of her didn't believe it until I was there in front of her in the flesh. Then waiting for John to get here…that was hell in itself. I almost cried when he was just half an hour late. I had to smoke for Christ's sake! I quit years ago…when I met John. But he came. I was so relieved I almost kissed him right then and there, but that wouldn't have gone so well would it? I've missed him so much. He walked right up, with all of his personal affects, wearing his beige jumper. Just like the first time. That jumper suits him well, it's subtle yet warm, just like my John. I can't tell you how many times he's worn it in the past year. Well I can tell you how many times I've seen him in it, 186 times. I hated that, watching my darling John from a distance. Never letting him know I was there. Why did I torture myself like that? Oh right…because I missed him. And I love him…I need to be with him…now. Pajamas first, then teeth brushing, then John.

Christ that took longer than I wanted it to. But now I'm walking upstairs to my John. I wonder if he's awake. It doesn't matter, this won't be weird, I used to climb into his bed before…when I needed to talk to him, or when I was sick. There he is, he isn't sleeping yet I can tell. I slide to the side of his bed, I lift the covers, Christ he's nearly starkers…I climb in and pull the covers back up. He rolls over and out of the corner of my eye; I can see his face gently illuminated by the moonlight streaming in from the window. He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Couldn't sleep then Sherlock?" his voice is nearly a whisper.

"Not at all, and by the looks of it neither could you."

That makes him laugh a little. The sound of his voice is beautiful.

I roll onto my side now, his face inches from mine. He touches my cheek; his hands are so very warm.

"I missed you Sherlock"

"I missed you too John"

A long silence…but that's okay, I just enjoy his presence.

"Did you love her Sherlock? Irene?"

"No" where is this coming from?

Another long silence, now I'm a bit more nervous, in this light I can't read his expression properly.

"Did you ever want more than a flatmate out of me Sherlock?"

I can't breathe for a moment. Did I? Of course…should I tell him that?

"With every fiber of my being John…I…I love you."

A long silence. The rejection is coming now, I've been so afraid of this.

"I love you too, Sherlock Holmes"

I can't believe it, it's like every time I imagined those words coming from his sweet lips has finally come true. Be still my fleeting heart. He slides his hand into my hair and wraps his fingers through it, slides me ever so gently towards him, and he tentatively kisses me. It's more amazing than even a genius like me could have imagined. His lips are soft and warm, he smells like soap and tea, and, sweet, delicious John. He tastes even better, I find as I slide my tongue nervously against his lips, sweet, salty, maybe even bitter somehow. He's just a beautiful mixture of arousing flavours. I slowly melt into him as my hands run the length of his back and through his hair and his do the same to me. Oh John, never, ever, ever, let go of me again. Please. He slides his hand down my torso and lifts up my shirt until my chest is bare and my lips are forced away from his long enough to get the damned thing over my head. I can tell just how badly he wants me as his breathing gets faster and faster. This is all happening so fast. I wasn't ready for this to happen, although I have been imagining it every night for almost a year now. He slides his hand down my chest again and begins to make quick work of the knot in my pajama pants…I can't do this yet. I want it so badly…but I don't want it all to happen at once. I slide my hands down his chest and wrap them around his wrists, stopping him from going any further. He looks at me confusedly.

"Not yet John. Not tonight…I don't think I'm ready…just yet…for uhm…that."

Your voice is a delicate whisper in my ear. "I'm sorry Sherlock, I'll wait as long as you like"

"Thank you John."

"Anything, for you, My Sherlock."

And that is that. I really AM HIS Sherlock. And he is MY John. Forever.

"You don't have to stop kissing me John"

And so he started again. Kissing me like it was the only thing keeping him alive. It was beautiful and blissful. Eventually the kissing slowed until we both drifted off to sleep, wrapped warmly in each others' arms as well as John's old quilt.

I wake groggily, and a bit confused, but then I remember the wonders of last night, of John's warm skin, his wonderful kisses, him, John, MY John. I smile into the bright morning before reaching out my hand and quickly and painfully realizing my darling is gone from the bed. Where has he gone? It wasn't a beautiful dream was it? No, because here I am, in his room, in our flat, his scent still surrounding me. But where has he gone? As I sit up slowly I hear his footsteps coming carefully up the stairs.

"Good Morning Sherlock love" oh I could hear that every morning of my life.

"Good Morning John" My prince charming clad only in pajama bottoms carefully carries in a breakfast tray with eggs, toast, and tea, for two. I could get used to this.  
"What time is it John darling?"

"About half 11. I only got up at 11."

"That's the best night's sleep I've gotten in well over a year. We should do that more often"

"Every night for the rest of our lives sounds good to me" ah my precious John, so romantic, and sentimental. I've missed it. We eat breakfast in relative silence, me leaning my head against his chest even as he read the morning paper. Alas all good things must end. Shortly after breakfast we headed down stairs to properly start the day. Well as much of a day as two blokes stuck in a flat together CAN have. I can't leave the flat at all and neither can John for that matter. The entire investigation may be compromised if anyone finds out him and I are back at 221b Baker Street. Back home. Together. Just like we should be. My afternoon was spent drinking coffee, staring at my computer, and waiting, oh God the waiting. It's terrible really. Waiting for information. At least now I have John, sweet, beautiful John. He keeps me from losing my mind, he really does. He makes me food, and coffee, tea, whatever I like, and he kisses me. Oh God does he kiss me, at my desk, on the couch, in the kitchen, and it always seems to surprise me, every time. Sometime after dinner, and after Mrs. Hudson's usual check in, John and I wondered into my bedroom. Next thing I'm aware of I'm nearly starkers and so is he. I'm still not quite ready to go farther than this and of course my beautiful, gentle John understands completely. We spend several hours kissing and cuddling, like a couple of young lovers. I rub the old scar on his shoulder and he lets me. I kiss it, and he moans slightly into my ear. Oh that precious sound. John traces my various scars, and my faded old track lines from years ago, and for once I am unafraid. I don't try to hide them from him. He holds me close to him and tells me all about our time apart and how every day he missed me, and wished I had never jumped. He tells me how he would carry on half crazed conversations with me in his head, and eventually they turned a little less than innocent. I told him how I was always just a few steps behind, getting coffee at the same places and even walking to Tesco with him. Remembering his words as he stood at my grave, remembering every time I saw him cry in my absence, it brought me to tears. My beloved John, bless his heart, just held me close, and told me that it was all alright now and that we never had to be apart again. And sometime after that we started kissing again, and holding each other. Until we both drifted off to sleep, my head on his chest and his arms around me.

A phone is ringing somewhere. I can hear it getting louder and louder. I'm looking for it. I can't find it. I run towards it, and the sound moves. Where is it? It's dark. I can't see anything. "Sherlock?" Where is that voice coming from, it's muffled. It's…its John. "Sherlock?" He's looking for me in the dark, I must find him. Did the ringing stop? Where's John? It's so dark…

I wake with a start. John is shaking me gently, a phone to his ear.

"It's your brother Sherlock, Mycroft has called."

Mycroft? Damn. I hate talking to my brother; especially being woken up by him.

"What is it Mycroft?"

"Now, now brother dear. Don't be so rude when I have vital information for you."

"Well are you going to tell me or not?"

"It seems we know where our next target will be this evening; will you be watching the take down?"

After sitting up most of the night not eating or drinking, just watching the live feed of a few dozen street cameras all strategically placed to give John and I the perfect view of the take down of yet another strong point in Moriarty's web, it all pays off. The arrest is beautifully conducted. It's all over but the news reports now, not that John and I are paying any attention to those. He's got his beautiful lips pressed against mine on the couch, he tastes like Champagne, or maybe that's me. We've both had about half a bottle of sweet bubbly alcohol and it's making John's brilliant skin absolutely glow. Somehow our tipsiness has lead us to be naked in my bed; when did that happen? Oh well, oh…oh my. THAT, Mister Watson, is very nice…

"Oh John…do that again…oh" John Watson has started to rut against me. It's wonderful really. I don't know what I was afraid of. Why did I make him wait? Why didn't this happen years ago…

"Sherlock?" Why in Christ's name have you stopped?

"Yes John my love?"

"If I do something wrong just tell me, I'll stop whe-"

"Shut up John and keep going." And oh GOD does he keep going. He touches every part of my body he couldn't before. And I let him. I let him because I am more than returning the favor. As he kisses and gently bites my neck I can't help but moan in pleasure. So I gently play with his nipples, and lean into him and kiss his chest eliciting the most glorious of groans from the back of his throat. My hands move downward to his…oh my… he's become so hard…and large. My fingers explore the length of it and as I gently rub my palm across the head of it the MOAN that escapes John's lips, only makes me want him more. His turn; he starts to gently rub his hand up and down the shaft of my cock. Before I know it he's started to kiss his way down my abdomen to my groin, and I can't help as I moan a chorus of "John's" and "OhmyGod's." Then, before I can prepare myself, he slides the tip of his tongue against the tip of my cock and I swear I see stars. My breathing is short and shallow, coming in gasps now as he brings his mouth down on my cock and proceeds to suck me off. He goes at it and gently strokes my balls with his fingers as I whisper (or am I screaming?) his name in ecstasy.

"John…I…I'm…com-"

Too late; but what's this? My God, not only has he swallowed it, but he's licking the excess off of me. That is so sexy. I lay there helplessly gasping for breath as he kisses his way back to my lips and snogs me for a good five minutes. What is air?

"Oh John…"

He just kisses me hard before reaching down to his own throbbing member and rubbing one out so quickly that I barely have time to register what he's doing before there's a pool of warm sticky liquid spreading across my belly. John collapses against me.

"I love you Sherlock"

"I love you too John" We cuddle for a long time, kissing gently, before we both nod off to sleep.

That was almost two years ago. Things have gone back to normal, John got his job at the clinic back, I started to take on cases for NSY and the world welcomed me back with open arms. Not that any of that matters, because I have John.


End file.
